


After the Ambush

by Rosehip



Series: Ceilidh Tabris saves the Damn World [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Antivan Crow training sucks, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Gift Giving, POV First Person, Sorry Not Sorry, dalish gloves, much game dialog, not much happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 13:51:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosehip/pseuds/Rosehip
Summary: Ceilidh Tabris works on figuring out their new companion, as well as keeping the peace.Leliana wants to go shopping, Alistair is grumpy, and Morrigan is sick of everybody's crap.





	After the Ambush

Alistair was as close to mad at me as I had ever seen him. We're usually more on the same page than I expected us to be, but not when it comes to hiring your own hit man, I guess. Duncan told me on the road to Ostagar that he thought we would get along, and we have, mostly. He's a good guy, so who knew he'd ever hesitate to show forgiveness? For that matter, when did I learn to do that?

I wasn't going to kill the assassin from the moment he started talking to me like a normal person. Nobody had ever just done that. Everyone I had fought before had been so _unreasonable._

When I cut him free, I could see it on his face that he thought I was going to kill him despite everything I'd said. And he didn't even flinch. I didn't know what to make of that, but it made me very sad.

That day I took the lead for once. I usually left woodland navigation in Morrigan's paws, but Levi had left us a pretty good set of instructions, and excepting our earlier adventure, we seemed to be making good time. The road through the hilly woods had been well maintained before the country blew up, too. Leliana and Morrigan walked side by side behind me, the assassin walked behind them, looking very tired; and Alistair took up the rear, looking about ready to skewer the man in front of him, though I knew he wouldn't. Dane and Sten were bodyguarding for Bodahn and planned to catch up to us that evening.

“You are very beautiful, Morrigan.” said Leliana, interrupting the uncomfortable silence.

“Tell me something I do not know,” replied Morrigan, with an eye-roll I could practically hear.

“But you are always dressed in such rags. It... suits you, I suppose. A little rip here, a little tear there, to show some skin. I understand.”

I couldn't help but interrupt. “A _little_ rip, Leliana?” I fell back to keep pace with them.

“Ye-es, well...”

“You understand I lived in a _forest,_ yes?” asked Morrigan.

“But, maybe we could get you in a nice dress one day? Silk... no, velvet! Velvet is heavier. Better to guard against the cold in Ferelden. Dark red velvet... “ Leliana quieted for a moment, imagining her creation. I was imagining her being swatted by a bear. “With gold embroidery!” she continued. “It should be cut low in the front. We don't want to hide your features.”

Morrigan crossed her arms in front of herself and glowered at Leli. “Stop looking at my breasts like that. 'Tis most disturbing.”

“You don't think so? And if it is cut low in the front, then we must put your hair up to show off that lovely neck of yours.”

“You are insane! I would sooner let Alistair dress me.”

“Uh, hello?” Alistair cut in. “Walking right here, you know. And also- no.”

“You are mad to dismiss such an opportunity,” replied Zevran. It was the first time he'd spoken since we got underway.

“I'd rather have the opportunity to catch her fleas when she's a wolf.”

“Well _that_ presents an interesting picture,” mocked the assassin, suggestively. I laughed. I'm not sure Alistair caught his tone.

“You shall not have even that,” scoffed Morrigan. “But you may feel my fangs if you persist.”

I looked back at the lot of them and snorted, just as the assassin smiled at the exchange. Our gazes met, and he asked me “Is this common?” With a very small gesture he indicated Alistair and Morrigan.

“Constant,” I replied.

“I see.”

“I know, right?”

“What?” asked Alistair.

“Um... just that you and Morrigan are always arguing.” _And you should just fuck, already._

Leliana was not distracted from her original purpose. “Oh, Morrigan, don't worry about him. We need to think about shoes! I love shoes. We should go shopping together.”

Morrigan looked horrified and trapped.

“Oh, It'll be fun, I promise!” Leliana danced a few steps and began to ponder the best places to shop. I decided I would leave her to it, and headed up further to the front, again. To be fair, Morrigan had been barefoot when we met her and the boots she wore now had come off a demon, so maybe Leliana had a point.

I beckoned to Zevran. “Join me up here, will you?”

He hesitated for a second, then hurried to catch up with me. “Very well. Here I am.”

“Care to answer some questions?”

He smirked, and raised an eyebrow. I started to wonder if his face wouldn't freeze like that. “Oh? This should be good. Go ahead.”

“What do you think of the Dalish?”

“Hm. That is not where I thought this was going. You have just spent some considerable time with them, I believe?”

“Yeah. That's kind of why I'm wondering. I liked them. Well, most of them. But on the whole they're much more... normal than the stories I grew up on would have had me believe. People are people everywhere, I guess.”

“I suppose so. I know little enough of the Dalish, other than the fact that my mother was one. She fell in love with an elven woodcutter and moved to the city with him, leaving her clan behind for good. Once there, of course, he fell ill and died of some filthy disease. She was forced into prostitution to pay off his debts. Oldest tale in the book.”

Was he trying to play on my sympathies? It was working. I looked at him, appalled. “Zevran, that's horrible!”

“Is it? It seemed normal enough at the time. I grew up in the whorehouse with many other children who had similar tales. My mother died giving birth to me. My first victim, as it were.” His voice grew much more subdued as he said that, but he rushed on. “We were all raised communally by the whores. It was a happy enough existence, barring the occasional beating. Until the day they sold me to the crows, of course. I was seven years old. I understand I cost three gold. A good price considering that I didn't know the pommel of a dagger from the pointy end. The Crows buy all of their recruits that way. Buy them young and raise them to know nothing else but murder.

“That sounds rough, but you sound almost cheerful about it.”

“What can I say? It could have been much worse. Those who could not bring a good price suffered much less desirable fates. Truthfully, I never expected anything more than what I had. Surely your life has not been so idyllic. People like you and I are not the product of happy lives of contentment.”

“True. I had as good a life as I could expect as well, I guess. I was a seamstress...”

His smile relaxed into something real. “I did not expect that, of all things.”

“Everybody's got to do something. We were poor as chantry mice anyway, as you put it. We did the best we could. Problem is nobody in this country has to pay three gold to do what they want with you.” I could hear my own bitterness creeping in. I'd been vague, but I was surprised I even told him that much.

But he nodded. “You see?” He sighed. “My original point was that my mother's Dalish nature was always a point of fascination for me. Among the Crow recruits, sentimental things were not allowed. The only thing of my mother's that I managed to keep hidden was a pair of gloves. They were of Dalish make, and beautiful. I would stare at them and dream about what it would be like to travel with a clan. Early in my training, a group wandered close to the city and I ran off to join them. Needless to say, the reality did not live up at all to the fantasies I had constructed in my head, staring at those gloves.”

Interesting. He sounded content to have been a Crow but had twice (that I knew of) run away from them. It can't have just been fear of the death failure would bring. That didn't seem right. No coward faced me in battle with a _grin_. I had secrets of my own, and could spot secrets in another, but I wouldn't pry at this one. I asked instead, “Do you still have your mom's gloves?”

“No. They were eventually discovered and I never saw them again.”

Well, so much for trying to go easy on him. “Wow, Tabris, open mouth insert foot. I'm sorry.”

“It is hardly your fault, is it? Still, let us move on.” He picked up the pace, and I had to do the same if I was even pretending to lead us.

“So,” Leliana asked me afterwards, “Does this mean you can help fix Morrigan's clothes?”

“Wow, no.” I replied. “This is your fight. I like not being a newt.” I winked at Morrigan.

 

 

 

We made good time after that, what with Morrigan trying to escape Leliana and Zevran trying to escape... his past, I guess. He didn't seem to be trying to escape us, as I had half thought he would. We had planned to reach a specific point in the road, but the others overtook us near a cozy looking cluster of pines, so we stopped early. OK, not that early, really. That tree took forever to move.

We all fell into our usual chores, with Morrigan cooking, thank goodness. I put my tent up as usual, mostly to have someplace to change clothes. It didn't look or smell like rain. It took just a moment. I may have been raised in the city but the middle-of-nowhere came easily to me. I stood up, and looked around. The assassin caught my eye and came over.

“Have you any tasks for me, Warden?” he asked. He sounded polite. Beyond polite, actually... I would have used that tone with a human, back home. Well, that was just _creepy_.

I'm sure I made a face. I said “We are _not_ doing that. Never sound like that again.” He did not ask what I meant, but visibly relaxed. For the third time today I had the distinct impression I was being manipulated a bit. Well, I could understand that.

“Look,” I said. “I'm the leader because our real leader was killed at Ostagar, Alistair doesn't want to do it, and somebody has to. But that doesn't mean I'm going to be an ass about it. Duncan- the Warden commander, wouldn't have held anyone's past against them.” I paused, remembering how kind he'd been to me. If I was the new him, then I should try to be the same way, right? “You swore an oath to help. So did all of us, in different ways.”

“I understand, Warden...”

“Ceilidh.”

“Ceilidh, then,” he continued. “But everyone else is very busy, yes?”

“Fine, you're on dishes tonight. You asked for it. It _was_ my turn.”

He laughed. It was a warm, comfortable sound I immediately wanted to hear again. “As you like. It is true, I did.”

I turned to put my pack in my tent, and then remembered something. “Wait a second, will you? I think I have something for you.” I set my pack back down and rummaged through it. I'd noticed the Dalish styles were fairly limited. Their clothes varied only by material, color, and which god was honored in the embroidery or tooling... might one pair of gloves resemble another? My hand landed on the interesting set I had found in the Brecilian, and I presented it to Zevran.

“Gloves? You're giving me gloves? What for?!” He was clearly startled.

“They're Dalish gloves... I thought they might be like your mother's?”

He studied them more closely. “Maker's breath... you are right. The leather was less thick, and hers had more embroidery, but these are very close. And quite handsome. Thank you.”

“I'm glad. You're welcome.”

“Do I seem surprised?”

“Hah! A little bit.”

“It is that nobody has simply just given me anything before... thank you for thinking of me.”

“Huh.” Truthfully, I wasn't about to say this, but I felt like I owed him something for tormenting him earlier. I do _not_ have a future as an interrogator. That second with his ear was enough to tell me I would _never_ need to know anything that badly. But also... “In the city we had to make our own happiness. We would do nice things, just to make everything around us less bad. It's not like anyone else was going to. I'm learning that random gift giving is not all that common in the wider world, but it's how I was raised and I like to do it. I'm sorry if it's weird timing or I put you on the spot.”

“Not at all. It is a fine end to a... very surprising day.”

“If you think today was surprising? You just wait.”


End file.
